


it was always you

by orphan_account



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Brainwashed, Brainwashed Bellamy, F/M, Memory Loss, Violence, he doesn’t know who he is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:06:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24715786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: clarke and the others finally made it onto bardo, but they didn’t expect their enemy to be the one they were trying to save.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 7
Kudos: 32
Collections: the 100





	1. i must kill clarke griffin

**Author's Note:**

> this is kinda going to be just bellamy and clarke because honestly i can’t be bothered writing about the other characters 😳 they’re all dead before it starts anyways, so. hope u enjoy<3

It wasn’t him.

Whoever this man was— the one who was killing all her friends, the one who was trying to kill her— it wasn’t Bellamy. 

He— was he possessed? brainwashed? who knew— He wasn’t the man who hadn’t let her pull that lever at Mount Weather by herself. He wasn’t the man who’d saved her ass, not once, but multiple times. He wasn’t her other half, the heart to her head— the boy who she’d tried so hard not to care about and ended up caring the most for. 

He wasn’t the man she fell in love with. 

And now he was trying to kill her. ‘It’s not him.’ She kept repeating in her head, her thoughts spiralling as she stared at the person in front of her who looked so much like Bellamy, yet they couldn’t be more different. Her eyes dart to the bodies on the floor— Octavia, Murphy, Raven. They prick with tears— they were her friends, her  family. They were Bellamy’s, too, but he couldn’t see that. He couldn’t remember. And she needed to get him to do just that. 

“Oh, you don’t need to pretend like you actually care about them, Clarke. Stop with the crocodile tears. They’re already dead.” Yeah, it wasn’t Bellamy. He might look exactly like him, but he was merely a ghost of the Bellamy she knew and loved. His voice was detached (somehow, Clarke had never heard anything that chilled her more) and his lips were curved into a small smirk, one that didn’t hint at the slightest that he’d just killed his younger sister and his two friends, who’d risked everything just to get here. To save him. But how could they save someone who didn’t want to be saved? 

She shook her head, refusing to let the tears that were filling her eyes fall. He was usually the only one she could be vulnerable in front of— the only one who she felt safe with, but this wasn’t Bellamy and she didn’t want whoever this monster was to see her crying.

“Clarke.” He begins to advance on her and she stumbled back, in a rush to get away as if she had somewhere to go. She didn’t know this planet, and she’d probably be killed— if not by Bellamy, by someone else. “Oh, don’t be like that. I just want to get a good look at you, that’s all.” She stood there, frozen as the boy closed the gap between them, staring at her with a sort of intensity that made her look away. ‘It’s not him,’ she tried to tell herself, once again, but her eyes ignore her brain and swivel back to meet the man’s eyes. And for a moment, just a moment, he looked like Bellamy. He looked at her the same way he’d looked at her that day in Becca’s lab— with a sort of softness in her eyes that made it hard not to kiss him. Made it hard not to confess her feelings for him, admit that everything she’d ever done was for him, only for him. 

“I’ll never understand it.” He raises a hand to cup the girl’s jaw, and she flinches away, all too aware that this was the hand that had just killed her friends mere moments before. But he keeps it there, softly brushing her thumb over her flushed cheek— red from fighting, not from the fact that the boy she loved was this close. Maybe just a little bit. 

“Understand what?” Her voice comes out broken— definitely not how she wanted it to sound at all. She didn’t sound confident, didn’t sound sure of herself in the slightest, and she swallowed, the curly haired boy letting out a chuckle. 

“Love. It’s a complicated thing, right? Something you know a lot about.” He steps away, his hand falling from her skin and although this wasn’t Bellamy and she knew it, she didn’t want it gone. An expression of slight confusion (and maybe fear?) crossed over her face at his words, doing all she could to hide it and she was sure that Bellamy saw, but he didn’t address it. Just kept on with whatever speech he was giving. 

“First it was Wells. Now he wasn’t obvious— you never thought you loved him. Not in that way— you thought of him as a friend. But when he died, that changed. Right?” The boy looks to her casually, as if he were discussing the channels on TV, not people who had died. She was confused as to what exactly his point was, but didn’t question it, her eyes scanning the room as she tried to think of a way to get out of this situation. He didn’t wait for an answer, however, before he continued, but he was right, of course. She had loved Wells. “Then the spacewalker.” He let out a laugh, and Clarke could swear she heard a tinge of bitterness in the sound. “He was your first real love, the first person you let yourself feel for. Shame he turned out to be a cheating scumbag, one that you’d have to kill later on anyways.” He looks to Clarke, raising his hands in mock defence, almost making fun of her. “Sorry. Mercy kill.”

“And then you went and fell for the girl who was the reason you had to kill him. A bit ironic, but you loved her, didn’t you?” He steps over Octavia’s body, simply taking a glance at her like she wasn’t his sister, wasn’t the girl he’d sacrificed his life for to take care of, before continuing. “Lexa.” The name brought a sharp pain to her heart, it had been years— hundreds of years, technically, and she was over her— but she’d never stop loving her. 

“But people who get close to you always die, don’t they? No difference with Lexa. She died in your arms, didn’t she?” She stood there, silent— if this was anyone else, she’d be attacking them, but she couldn’t hurt Bellamy. She couldn’t kill him. “And that’s why you never let yourself fall for Bellamy.” 

Her heart practically stops at that, and the fear she felt must’ve shown on her face, because Bellamy shakes his head with another empty laugh. “Oh, come on, princess. You don’t think everyone’s  that  stupid, do you? They see how you look at him, how you act around him, every careless decision you make just to keep him safe. Because you’ve already lost everyone you ever loved, and you can’t lose him. A bit pathetic, really. Because now he’s gone, and he’s not coming back.” His voice shifts in that last sentence, the tone becoming menacing, and with one swift movement he pulls a knife out of his side pocket and hurls it at her, the girl ducking just in time as it brushed against the side of her head, narrowly missing her ear. 

“Bellamy—“ she begins to speak up, but clearly he’d finished the one sided conversation he was having and now he was running at her, tackling her to the ground. She struggled, shoving him off her, or at least trying to, wanting to reach the knife a few meters away from her. But what exactly did she plan to do when she got it? Stab him? She couldn’t do that, and she knew it— Bellamy did, too. 

They struggle for a few moments, equally matched in fighting— it was hard to get a punch in but she managed a couple, both of them now sure to get bruises on their faces, if they even survived this. She catches a glance of a gun on the ground— Murphy’s, one that he’d dropped when fighting. Bellamy saw it too, pushing her off him to get ahold of it, but Clarke was faster, and a second later the gun was in her hands, aiming it right at Bellamy.

He laughs. A genuine laugh, and it made her sick to her stomach, her expression still a little unsure about this but she kept the gun trained on his head. “You’re not going to shoot me.” He sounded confident enough, but even though this wasn’t Bellamy, Clarke could still read him. And she knew he wasn’t completely sure about that.

“You’re right. I’m not.” And within a swift movement, she turned the gun’s direction to herself, Bellamy acting instantly and taking ahold of it, still facing her, the weapon now pressed against her cheek. “I’m not going to hurt you.” A soft tear rolls down her cheek as she stared up at the boy, one who she would do anything to save. Even if it meant risking her own life. Especially if it meant that. 

“This isn’t you.” Her voice comes out in a broken whisper, and she was sure that if anyone else was in the silent room, they would hear her. But it was just her and him. No one else would hear this but them. And no one else needed to. 

“You’re Bellamy. You’re the guy who sacrificed your life over and over again, for all of us. Octavia, Murphy and Raven. All of them. You’re the guy who would do anything for your sister, to protect her. You’re the most selfless person I’ve ever met, Bell. Every stupid thing, every decision you’ve made is for someone else, to ensure someone else’s safety. Never your own. Which is why I need to bring you back. Please—“ A broken sob leaves her lips, shaking her head as she continues. “Please. This isn’t you.” She repeated, gazing up at him with tears in her eyes, ones that were full of pain.

“You’re not the guy I fell in love with.” 

And although it was slight, his expression changes, almost as if he was remembering something. Like he was coming back to her. But then it disappeared, and he became the heartless man who’d just killed her friends once more, pushing the gun deeper into her cheek, her eyes closing although the tears were still falling. 

“I love you. I love you, Bellamy. I always have, and I always will. No matter what. Kill me if you need to. But you need to know that I love you.” And she was ready to die, she was— what else did she have to live for? Her friends were dead, and Bellamy, her Bellamy, seemed to be too. But his hold on the gun falters and she opens her eyes, her vision a little blurry but she could see the pain in his glistening eyes, and he leans back. The gun was still on her, but Bellamy was.. well, Bellamy again. His expression softens, and he seems almost confused at the scene in front of him, slowly pulling the gun away. 

“Clarke?” 


	2. i lost you too

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chapter, hope u enjoy reading this<3

“Yeah, it’s me. It’s me, Bellamy.” She cups his face, the tears falling down her cheeks freely now, out of pure relief to see that neither one of them was going to end up dead.

He seemed dazed, almost— like he wasn’t sure of himself, his eyes flickering over to the others, their bodies on the floor, and he seemed to break a little inside.

“I did that.” And there was nothing more she wanted to do than take the memory of that away, to make it so Bellamy didn’t remember killing them. But she couldn’t.

“It wasn’t you.”

“But it was. I watched myself kill them. I.. Octavia—“ And with that he broke down, his heart shattering into a million pieces at the sight of his sister, dead on the floor. “She was supposed to survive.” He whispers, and Clarke wasn’t sure what he meant but she didn’t ask, sitting up and wiping her own tears away before brushing away the boy’s, softly shaking her head.

“It wasn’t you, Bellamy. It wasn’t. You wouldn’t have done that, and you know it.”

“Murphy, Raven.. They’re all dead because of me. It was—“ Clarke didn’t let him finish that sentence, pulling him into a firm hug, letting him sob into her shoulder as she comforted him.

“This wasn’t your fault, Bell. You weren’t yourself. You were brainwashed, you didn’t know what you were doing.” Even if the boy didn’t agree, he didn’t argue, letting her assure him as the tears rolled down his cheeks, and he felt like they’d never stop.

They sit there for what felt like hours but couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, and he finally pulls away, a mess. His eyes were slightly swollen and there were dried tears on his cheek, wiping them away with the back of his hand. “I didn’t kill you.”

It seemed like a statement, so Clarke nodded, unsure how much exactly of the conversation they’d had while he brainwashed he remembered, but if he remembered killing their friends, he must remember her admitting her feelings for him.

She shakes her head, ready to deny it— to tell him that she’d just said it to get him back. That she didn’t really love him, not like that, and it was just a strategy. To survive. They all did crazy things to survive, right? But she doesn’t get a word in before her lips are on hers, and he’s kissing her. And suddenly she’s kissing him too, she’s kissing him back, and the world fades away as the boy in front of her becomes the only thing she cares about. And just as a ghost of a smile begins to form, the boy jolts forward, and she pulls back in mild confusion at the movement.

“What, have you never kissed someone before?” A quiet laugh leaves her lips, but it’s cut off as she sees it— the knife in the side of his stomach, pushed in so deep that it was barely even visible, before it’s pulled out. A guttural groan leaves his lips, slumping against the girl and she’s in shock— staring at the wound as a figure appears next to them. A disciple, one that had just stabbed Bellamy, sure to do the same to her. She didn’t think before she acted, picking up the gun next to her that had been in Bellamy’s hands moments before and shooting him, barely feeling anything as the gun clatters to the floor, as does the figure, before she returns her attention to the boy in her arms.

“Clarke—“ Bellamy groaned again, his hand holding the stab wound and hers comes to rest on his, blinking as she processed what had just happened in front of her.

“Don’t speak. I’m going to get you help, okay? I’m..” A pained sob leaves her lips. She had just watched the boy she loved trying to kill her and got him back, just to watch him die in her arms. “I’m going to save you.” But, with her medical expertise and experience, she knew Bellamy was beyond saving. She knew he wouldn’t survive this.

He laughs. Bellamy actually laughs, and it sends a flash of pain through her heart. “I know I’m not going to survive this. You know it too—“ He coughs, and blood trickles down the side of his mouth, already looking paler and paler by the minute. Clarke interrupts, but he shakes his head, speaking up before she can. “Please. Please let me say this. I can’t— I can’t die before telling you this.”

And so she shuts up, letting Bellamy speak. And he does. He tells her how he’d always loved her, how she’d always been the most important person in his life, along with Octavia. He tells her how he was scared, afraid that she wouldn’t feel the same and that’s why he’d never admitted to it. He tells her how, even though he’d gave in to fear, he never wanted her to do the same, and that he wanted her to be happy. And that it wouldn’t be with him. She wanted to argue but she knew he was right. That after today, Bellamy Blake wouldn’t exist anymore.

“It was always you, Clarke. You were the one that kept me grounded. You kept me sane, when I was up on the ring. Just the thought of seeing you alive again, knowing you were out there somewhere— it gave me what I needed to carry on.” His voice was getting weaker by the minute, his eyes already half closed and Clarke couldn’t stop crying, stroking his cheek softly as he spoke. “I never let you go. But..” His last breaths were coming and they both knew it, struggling to get his words out. “You need to let me go.”

But she never did. Bellamy had always had hope that she was alive, even though there was no reason to. And she’d do the same. Deep down, she knew he was gone, and she knew he was never coming back. 

But what else was love if not everlasting?


End file.
